


King of the Jungle

by Anonymous



Series: Be Thine Own Palace [3]
Category: Persona 5
Genre: Anal Sex, Biting, Brainwashing, Daddy Kink, Dubious Consent, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Sexual Content, First Time, Headaches & Migraines, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Masturbation, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Parent/Child Incest, Rough Sex, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Hatred, Status Effects, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Vomiting, confused feelings, mentions of non-con/rape, no actual rape, references to murder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-02
Updated: 2020-06-07
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:34:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 17,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24503956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Akechi knows it’s a bad idea to take Shido inside his own palace. Nothing good could possibly come of this…He’s right, of course. Too right.
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Shido Masayoshi
Series: Be Thine Own Palace [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1752943
Comments: 7
Kudos: 66
Collections: Anonymous





	1. Feral

**Author's Note:**

> Happy birthday Goro! Could you have hoped for a better present? I think not. 
> 
> This boy likes dead doves. I don't make the rules ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

“What do you mean ‘psychic lock?’” 

Shido rubs the corner of his eye as he listens to a pair of top cognitive pscience researchers explain this to him one more time. He’s vaguely aware of the fact that they’ve gone through this explanation a few times, but he’s still not getting the whole picture.

Right now, he’s far more tired than he’s ever been in recent memory. The campaign’s pace is grueling. Relentless. He’s on a schedule of four hours sleep a night, then roughly an eighteen hour work day, with workouts in his personal gym at least three times a week. 

There simply aren’t enough hours in the day to accomplish what needs to be done for this country. Now his researchers are telling him about some type of mechanism they can create in his palace. Something called a psychic lock. An insurmountable barrier that the Phantom Thieves won’t be able to break, unless they get to Shido in person (which of course will never happen). It sounds useful. 

Lately, as the Phantom Thieves’ notoriety grows, Shido has become increasingly aware of the possibility that his Treasure could theoretically be stolen. The notion started off as ridiculous, but with each passing heist those ludicrous, meddling Thieves pull off…Shido feels a slab of ice thickening in the pit of his stomach. 

He has to hand it to these Phantom Thieves, in a way. They’re making him sweat a little. 

Although that’s probably just his own overly cautious instincts at work. He’s a man that likes to have contingencies in place. An ace in the hole. Or, more realistically, a trap door with an escape route just for him. 

“If we could find a place in your palace that correlates to a place in the real world with some strong connection to your psyche,” a researcher on Shido’s team reiterates, “we might be able to hypnotize you into locking it down with a psychic lock. These are powerful tools in palaces. Like an added defense mechanism against intruders.” 

Shido sighs. He’s already quite tired of this conversation. There’s no way in hell he’s letting one of these idiots hypnotize him. He wouldn’t trust anyone with that kind of power over his own mind.

If they went down that road, digging into Shido’s psyche, who the hell knows what they might uncover?

His eyes slide over to Akechi, who is sitting towards his left a few seats away. The kid is paying fast attention. To an onlooker, he’d probably seem like a school-kid attending a lecture. But Shido knows him better than that. He’s been staring at him for years. Observing all of Akechi’s tells.

His shoulders are too straight. Spine at a perfect right angle to his ass. That means he’s stressed. Something about this conversation has him on edge.

Shido rubs his chin thoughtfully. He turns back to the researcher. “The hypnosis won’t be necessary. I’m sure I an convince myself to create a barrier like this if I give it some thought.” He pauses. “It can’t be too hard.” 

The researcher’s face turns an interesting shade of blue. He seems to be holding his breath. Adjusting his glasses with one shaky finger, he says, “Uh…well…that’s…not necessarily how it works—”

“At least in recent studies!” The other researcher, a woman with her hair pulled back (Shido never bothers to learn any of their names), chimes in to save her partner’s ass. “I’m sure a man such as Shido-sama would be able to manifest a psychic lock through sheer force of will. If we find the exact right place in your palace, that is.”

Shido pointedly looks at Akechi. He lets the rest of the people in attendance follow his gaze. Dragging his son into this conversation at last. 

“You’ve been in my palace before, haven’t you?” 

Akechi clasps his hands together on the conference table. The leather squeaks. His hands are sweating under there, Shido notes. 

“…Yes.” 

There really shouldn’t be any need to elaborate on this; Shido always assumed Akechi went into his palace from time to time. To dig up dirt on him, probably. Since Akechi is clearly the type who does his homework. Or maybe he goes in just because he can. Because he’s a kid who likes to test the boundaries and stick his nose where it doesn’t belong.  _ Clearly _ .

The idea never struck Shido as odd. He doesn’t know what goes on in his palace—he’s not nearly as well-versed in the pscientific research as he should be—but he assumes from the reports that it’s just an average cruise ship. People milling about. Restaurants, pools, parties. Colleagues from his daily life show up there, doing what he expects they do on a day to day basis. Nothing exciting. After all, it’s a fictional world, isn’t it? Dolls in a playhouse acting out a part they’ve been given. On an endless loop. 

Surely…

Except now he sees Akechi sitting there like that. Clenching his hands together the way he does when he’s uncomfortable. Like that time Shido brought him to his billiards club. Akechi sitting amidst the smoke and laughter from the men of high society. Stiff as a board. Hands in his lap. Just like that. 

Something is wrong. 

Shido narrows his eyes. He clocks the way Akechi’s thighs clench under the table. He’s never seen his son this uncomfortable before. It’s…

It’s hot. That composed, murderous, perfectly presentable son of his. His ass must be so tight right now as his muscles cramp from the anxiety. Shido licks his lip unconsciously—

He can’t. He can’t think about this now. 

Even though…part of the reason why he hasn’t been getting a good night’s rest is because of Akechi himself. Dirty, pesky attention seeker. The other day he… As they were sitting next to each other at this very same conference table, Akechi ‘accidentally’ let their hands touch. His pinky slithered against Shido’s, like a treacherous snake, and stayed there. As if Akechi hadn’t noticed. As if that kind of casual contact were something they did. No big deal.

Shido pulled his hand away like it burned, shot his son an angry glare, and moved his seat further in the opposite direction. Akechi looked up from his notebook. Feigning obliviousness. 

He’d never fucking forgive this kid. For doing the things he does to him. In the days that followed that incident, Shido had to live with the memory of that delicate pinky touching his own hand. He…he actually masturbated to the memory of that pinky. The softness of those slender hands. He imagined the way they would feel on his wrought iron cock—his brain conjured up the image of a suddenly shy, but eager to please, Akechi tugging on his father…like he’d been secretly itching to do it for so long—

He really hates Akechi. The things he stirs up inside Shido. A shit storm of perverted tendencies that were better left untouched.

And Akechi with his fucking little finger. Touching all those tendencies without a care in the world. Conjuring up that storm inside Shido despite knowing the danger: That Shido cannot put those urges to rest so easily. 

So he decides to put Akechi on the spot. In front of the whole team. “So then, do you know of a place like that? A place in my palace that sounds like it would work as a…what was it again? Psychic lock?” 

He expects to see Akechi squirm. To visibly sweat while the color drains from his face. Shido wants to savor it. He’ll take good note so that he can interrogate his son later on the reason why he’s so out of sorts—

But he forgets that Akechi is acting right now. In front of the rest of the world, Akechi is always on a stage. Performing the part of that detective prince. The one the media loves so much. 

“I admit that I’m not as knowledgable on the theories of cognitive pscience as I’m sure our R&D team is.” Akechi actually flashes the pair of pscientists a smile. Shido nearly chokes on his own spit when he sees both the woman and the man blush. “However, from a logistical standpoint—which is my area of expertise—I do know a place in Shido-san’s palace that serves as a gateway to the rest of the ship. A series of corridors.” 

He takes out his notebook, that little diary Shido thought was just for show. He flips to series of drawings. There’s actually a map there. A fucking  _ map _ .

Shido touches the middle of his forehead. Exactly how intricate is this palace? This world his own mind has created? He suddenly feels a sense of foreboding. A rare moment of pure gut instinct. 

“Yes, the front hall of the passenger section is quite heavily guarded by shadows,” Akechi explains. He points to a series of yellow lines—are those doors? “Several hallways are labyrinthine in nature, but they all lead to the same place. This door here.” He points to one yellow line. “Without entry through this door, access to the rest of the palace will be entirely blocked.” 

“Excellent!” A few members of the board are nodding their heads in agreement. The researchers seem very relieved. “That’s our play, then. Let’s turn that door into a psychic lock.” 

“Yes, that seems to make the most sense. Thank you for your diligent note-taking, Akechi-kun.” The researchers bow awkwardly to him. 

“All part of my job,” Akechi replies. Offering them another easy smile.

Shido seethes silently. He wants to smack that smile right off his son’s face. How can he show such a face to just anyone? Is he trying to seduce the world into his ever-growing fan club? He might nearly succeed.

Arrogant. Akechi really needs to be put in his place…

Shido cracks his knuckles unconsciously under the table. He’s not aware of this tic. (But several other people are.)

Getting back on track, the researchers turn to their slideshow presentation. It’s all print. Shido’s eyes are too tired to read it. “We believe the best way to initiate this process is for Shido-san himself to get a good look at this door. Survey the area, establish a sense of the cognition.” 

It takes a moment for their suggestion to hit him, but when it does, Shido’s head snaps up so fast he gets a neck cramp. “You mean…go into the palace? Myself?” 

The woman nods. “Yes. It’s best to familiarize yourself with the environment so that you can customize its layout to your own liking.” 

Shido glances at the complicated map in Akechi’s notebook. The sense of foreboding in his gut intensifies. 

“Aren’t there risks involved with entering your own palace?” he asks. Crossing his arms over his chest. 

“Well, yes,” the man stammers. Rushing through he next few slides. “For one thing, you don’t have a persona. So you’d need protection. Especially since we believe the shadows won’t recognize you as their master, because your cognitive fingerprint is not the same as your Shadow’s—”

“Protection?” Shido hates where this is going.

“Yes.” The woman beams over at Akechi. “Luckily, we have a persona user on our team.” 

Even the detective prince is silent for a moment. He looks warily at Shido, turning his head in that cautious way he has. Gears turning. “You’re saying I would need to…escort Shido-san through his palace?”

“Only as far as the door you pointed out. Any further than that would be ill-advised.” The man gestures pedantically. “Shido-san is still the creator of this palace. Your presence might agitate the shadows in a way we can’t predict—”

“Are we sure the benefits of this project outweigh the risks?” Shido is not convinced. 

Spending time in his palace? Sifting through his own deep-rooted mental distortion? No. No, no. There’s a reason why Shido prefers to conveniently ‘forget’ the casualties of his misanthropic rise to power. Suffice to say, he’s been burying shit for years. Years and years. There’s shit he hasn’t dealt with that he honestly doesn’t even remember anymore—

And to be with Akechi of all people. The person needling out the worst in him. All his weaknesses.

“If we can find a way to make your Treasure completely inaccessible to those Phantom Thieves, we must utilize it.” Someone else on his team is speaking now. “You’d be invulnerable, sir.” 

Invulnerable… 

Shido closes his eyes for a moment. He does like the sound of that. 

“Although there are risks,” one of the researchers drones on, “I foresee this project going quite well. Akechi-kun is an experienced persona user. I recommend a stealth approach for this mission. It would be wise not to let the shadows become alerted to your presence at all, if possible. The less contact you have with them the better. Fortunately, our Akechi-kun is quite familiar with stealth missions, right?”

“I…” Akechi’s lips form a straight line. Then suddenly, disturbingly, he’s smiling again. “Yes, I am.” 

“Indeed.” The woman nods. She’s distorted too, isn’t she? To know Akechi’s true business in the palaces and still admire him for it? 

Shido realizes—not for the first time—that he’s surrounded by lunatics. 

Still, he doesn’t have a logical reason to veto this plan. All his reasons are strictly emotional. And he can’t afford to start leading with his feelings. Not now. After how far he’s come…he has to rely on rationality. Cold hard facts. Rationally speaking, this plan could be a windfall for them. An impenetrable palace? A Treasure those Phantom Thieves can’t touch?

It’s too good of a chance to turn down.

Besides, no matter what they encounter in that palace, Shido is sure he can subdue it. He’s the real master of that place, isn’t he? Not whatever the hell Shadow it is that walks around like a king in there. A thing that’s not even real. 

None of it is real. There’s nothing to be afraid of. 

“Let’s do it then.” 

____________________________________

This is a terrible fucking plan. 

Goro is going to hate every single second of this. 

How can the cognitive pscience researchers be so stupid?! Haven’t they seen the inside of Shido’s palace?! It’s a literal nuthouse in there, an actual insane asylum full of society’s worst scum and their most deviant desires (to say nothing of the things Goro himself has seen in there…) 

He clenches his cell phone in his hand, staring down the Mementos app with eyes full of bitter hate. 

What the actual fuck. 

To begin with, he’s never had to spend an extended amount of time with Shido one on one. At most, his reports in Shido’s office take about twenty minutes. At the  _ very _ most. Now, he has to take Shido around his palace to find that door and then…what the hell else? 

No, this will be simple. In and out. He’s not going to prolong this. Not by a moment. They’re going to go in, get to that door, and get the fuck out. No shadows, no nonsense. He doesn’t like the sound of any of those warnings those researchers half-heartedly gave. Unpredictable shadows. Shido being essentially powerless but his own special kind of wild card—

“So what are we doing here?” Shido asks, arms crossed over his chest. 

They’re standing in front of the Diet building. Waiting for Goro to activate the app. He hasn’t explained anything to Shido; he just told him to come with him to the front of the building. Now the sun is setting behind them: The two of them, father and son, standing as far apart as they can while still remaining in earshot of each other. 

The space in between their bodies is a cavern. Treacherous and deep. 

Goro has been turning up the heat with Shido lately. He’s tired of waiting. He wants to get a recording of  _ something _ before it’s too late. He doesn’t even really know what—it’s been several months (almost a year) since Goro thought to implement this strategy of catching his father in a lewd admission about his own son. Despite all the obvious flirting on Goro’s part—his very best attempts at entrapment—Shido shows no signs of giving in. 

In fact, he seems more disgusted by Goro every day. 

At this point, Goro is not living for himself anymore. Maybe he never was, but it’s especially true now. Every day when he wakes up he has to kill the lingering sense of  _ wrong _ that pervades his every movement. He doesn’t  _ want _ to flirt with Shido. He doesn’t want to do any of this! He wants…what he actually wants is…

Goro doesn’t even know anymore. He has nothing left. Just this ludicrous plan of his that probably won’t even amount to anything if he’s really being honest—

But. It  _ has _ to. It has to work! If it doesn’t work, then Akechi will literally be nothing—

“I’m waiting.” Shido is growling, checking his watch gratuitously. He despises being kept waiting.

Goro knows that. He is dragging his feet. He doesn’t want to go through with this plan. He knows—he just  _ knows _ —something is going to go wrong. How could it not? He’ll be trapped in that madhouse cruise ship with Shido. They could run into  _ him _ at any minute—him or that  _ thing.  _ The other Goro. The thing that wears his face and trashes Goro’s pride every second of its sorry existence.

They are not going anywhere near the ship’s helm. Goro would honestly rather die than take Shido there. 

It’s just to that door. That door and no further. 

There’s a distant hum leveling somewhere in the base of his spine. Like the feedback from a speaker. Buzzing, resonating all the way up to his jaw. It’s a weird feeling. Goro has come to recognize it. This is his conscience, his sanity, his sense of decency. Goro has been stumbling upon this feeling more and more lately. 

In a sick way, he’s proud of himself for learning how to turn the volume down on this feeling so that it becomes nothing more than background noise. He finds the dial, brings the staticky bass of his morals down as low as it will go, and presses the app icon. 

The Diet building dissolves into the reddish scene of flooded Tokyo. They’re standing on the cruise ship. Shido flinches for a moment, not expecting such a transition, but there’s nothing more than that. He’ll never let himself show more weakness than a flinch. This man is alabaster. A flinty piece of cold marble. He’s given Akechi nothing but stern looks and miserly, constipated praise. He’s Shido. He won’t be affected by this place.

Goro is standing there as the white prince of justice. His bird-like mask fills part of the yawning the space in between them. 

Shido adjusts his glasses, takes a deep breath, and surveys his surroundings. When his eyes land on Akechi, he stops. His eyebrows raise into the blank canvas of his bald head.

Goro feels like a child playing dress up. 

“That’s it?” Shido asks. Not bothering to disguise the scoff in his voice. “That’s your costume in here? The manifestation of your power?” 

Feeling infinitely small, Goro raises his arms into a shrug. “I’m a detective prince, so…” 

“Oh.” Shido crosses his arms again. Scowling. “So that’s not the real one then. The real you.” 

Goro curls his lips into his mouth. It’s true. What Shido says is the truth. The prince is the fake mask he’s conjured himself to fool everyone. But it is what he usually wears in Shido’s palace. Since he fits in so well among the high society people in this outfit. 

He stares down at his white boots. His voice comes out as small as he feels. “…No.” 

Shido takes a step towards him. It’s enough of a shift in their recent power balance that Goro is suddenly on full alert. His eyes widen behind his mask and suddenly—hands.

They’re back. Those _ hands _ . There are hands in his chest reaching out. The desperate longing of his youth, begging for his father’s approval. Desperately wanting the solidness of his body to come in contact with Goro. For the resonance in their blood and DNA to mingle somehow in a way no one can ever take away—

“Enough games,” Shido barks. He raises his hand as if to rip Goro’s mask off—coming close, but compromising at the last second. He settles for swatting the tip of Goro’s bird-like nose. Mocking him. “Show me the other one. The real one.” 

It’s not clear what would be a better strategy in this situation, the white prince or the black mask. The researchers asked for stealth. So should he try to blend in as the prince? Or should he stick to the shadows as the black mask? It really seems to be six of one, half a dozen of the other—

But that doesn’t really matter. Shido is asking to see the black mask. Goro finds that he  _ wants _ Shido to see it. He wants to show him. Who he really is. 

Black shadows echo around his figure. In a heartbeat’s time, the white of the prince darkens into the striped insanity of the black mask. His mask twists into horns, his hands into claws. Demonic. Nothing but red eyes and black. Black, black. As far as the eye can see. 

This is the real him. 

Shido’s scowl smoothes into a neutral expression. His eyes roam over Goro’s body. Every inch of him. In that moment—

Goro recognizes those eyes. The eyes from the club. The Shadow Captain’s eyes.  _ Those _ eyes. 

Holy shit—! 

Shido swallows hard. He nods once. As if in approval. Then he turns his back on Goro and heads for the passenger entrance. 

“Take me to this door. Let’s not waste any more time.” 

Goro’s body is tingling. His hands and feet are numb. His face too. When his lips try to twitch into a smirk, he doesn’t feel it. He can’t feeling anything except the thunderous beat of his heart, the shaky stuttering of his lungs as his body reminds itself to breathe. 

He thought…he’d thought that Shido didn’t want him anymore. That what he’d seen in the palace—Shido’s shadow brutally fucking the cognitive version of himself—was just a subconscious twitch. A drunken urge that Shido would never remember. 

But there in front of his eyes was all the proof he needed. Shido was eyeing him. Not like a boss,  _ not _ like a father. Like he wanted him. 

Is it all still there? That part of Shido? Even though he never lets on anything except his obvious deflections? Does that perverted, untamed part of him still want to—

Goro grabs his phone on instinct. Oh, damn. Shit! Damn it! 

Phones don’t work in the metacognitive world. 

Well. In that case. Goro stares out at the placid seawater engulfing Tokyo. In that case, he’d better be quick about this. In and out. To the door, that’s it.

No detours.

__________________________________

Shido needs to get his shit together. Really, he does. It’s enough that he’s agreed to take part in this unbridled lunacy—a cruise ship in the middle of Tokyo? What the fuck is wrong with him. It’s embarrassing. Thank god Akechi is the only one who’s seen this place with his own eyes. Otherwise Shido’s unshakeable pride might actually take a few hits. 

So now they’re in the middle of an elaborate front hall, equipped with lavish western decorations and a chandelier. Masked passengers in black tie attire milling about sipping champagne. This part doesn’t seem so bad. It’s just a fancy party. Shido has been to plenty of these so it makes sense why his psyche has come up with something like this—

Not that he really understands why any of this is the way that it is. A  _ cruise ship _ . In some kind of apocalyptic Tokyo? Maybe Shido really does need to sit down with a shrink one of these days—no. That’s ridiculous. He’d rather be injected with some type of stasis drug to keep sedate for the rest of his life. Seems a much less demeaning option. 

In fact, he’s considering that option right now. As his son, wearing the black mask costume he’s heard rumors about, walks in front of him and gestures him to hide behind a column.

The outfit. Shido curses under his breath and follows Akechi. Fuck, that outfit. 

It leaves so little to the imagination. Skin tight. Following every inch of those slim legs up to where they meet in the middle. The trim slenderness of that waist. The roundness of his cute ass. Fuck, fuck this outfit is drawing out the worst in Shido. That urgent sex drive he’s never had a good handle on in his whole life. 

Shido wants to cup his hand around the smooth curve of that ass. He’s not at all deterred by the spiky horns or the sharp claws. He finds it…adorable, in a way. Seeing Akechi like this. The true manifestation of his heart. Dark and twisted. 

He’s perfect. Shido steals glances at Akechi from the corner of his eye as they sneak into one of the corridors. His son is so fucking perfect. Menacing and cruel. Just as fucked up as Shido is, but still young. Wild and savage. Honest, somehow desperate. As if the black mask itself is dying to be taken seriously. 

Shido likes that. A lot.

God damn it, he wants to push that mask up and kiss him hard. He wants to sit Akechi in his lap and have him ride his dick—still wearing the mask and the gloves and the whole thing. Shido has dabbled with role play in the past, he’s no stranger to most things in the bedroom, but it’s never really gotten his goat the way this outfit on Akechi apparently does. Shido wants this, the Black Mask, to get wrecked on his cock. 

He has to keep swallowing the drool as it accumulates in his throat. He’s already got a semi hard-on, so he’s walking with a slight limp. Akechi hasn’t spared two glances at him since they’ve been in here, so at least he doesn’t have to worry about being found out. 

…Why is that, though? Why doesn’t Akechi seem to be interested in him the way he’s been telegraphing for months? All of a sudden he’s finished with that game?

Akechi is different as the black mask, Shido concludes. He’s not the annoying flirty teenager that clogs up Shido’s focus during the work day. He’s more confident now. Leading. Moving through the shadows with ease. Fluid and practiced. Possessed with a feral energy that lets him crouch along the ground like some kind of jungle cat…

Shido wants him even more like this. 

They reach the end of the corridor, arriving at a series of doors. These must be the doors on Akechi’s map. By now, Shido is at half mast (if this were golf, he’d call it an eight iron). Usually when he gets to this point he’s ready to settle for the less attractive woman in the club for a night. But he can’t remember ever being in a situation where he was trying to hide his own arousal. 

It’s a trip. He’s reeling, suddenly feeling like he’s in a dream. Is any of this real? 

“Crap.” Akechi grabs him by the arm and squeezes him into a corner. Presses him into the wall. Clearly trying to hide him.

Shido almost laughs. He’s feeling light headed. Does the metacognition of this place have some type of effect on him? It feels like he’s been holding his breath for a while and now his brain is deprived of oxygen. There are spots in the corners of his vision. 

Akechi is so close to him he can feel his breath. Shido is grinning sloppily now. He wants to tuck Akechi’s cute brown hair behind his ear and plant a kiss on his cheek. He almost does it—the fuck?—but Akechi interrupts by saying, “I don’t think it sees us.” 

At that, Shido frowns. He peeks around the corner and sees something that doesn’t make sense. There’s a guard dog the size of an adult man with red glowing eyes pacing back and forth around the door in the distance. Odd looking shadows burst from its feet every time it takes a step. 

“A dog?” Shido asks, confused. Has his palace also manifested animals alongside the guests? 

“No, a shadow.” Akechi is still not looking at him. But he pauses for a moment and asks, “You don’t read any of the reports the researchers give you, do you?” 

Shido scratches his eyebrow self-consciously. He does read them, of course! But he’s a bit busy to be getting into the weeds and the nitty gritty of Jungian theory. It’s not high on his list of priorities. 

Regardless, he understands enough to know that this dog is some type of monster. Leave it at that. 

“We’re going to have to defeat it if we want to get closer to the door,” Akechi explains. 

Why is he saying ‘we?’ 

“Isn’t that your job?” Shido huffs. Why the hell else did he agree to bring Akechi on this asinine venture in the first place? Besides, do they really need to get any closer? Shido sees the door. That should be enough, right? His skin is breaking out into goosebumps. He’s sure now that this palace is doing something to him. He wants to leave as soon as possible

“Yeah, it is.”

Without saying anything else, Akechi emerges from the shadows. Bold as brass. He leaps from shadow to shadow, maneuvering a path up to the guard dog. With his knife raised in the air he moves to strike—

—But a whistle blows from somewhere nearby. A bluish man in a puffed up police uniform bounds over to Akechi. Shaking a baton. Despite being careful, Akechi was still spotted. 

“Piece of shit!” Shido’s son cries. He charges at the officer, lunging for the tight mask on the creature’s face. When he pulls it off, the creature dissolves into something else—a purple-skinned winged creature that looks almost like a man. He’s blowing into a seashell and he’s dressed in white. It looks real, but Shido’s brain is telling him it can’t be. 

He probably is dreaming. Did he hit his head somewhere? 

Or is this all part of the play? The rote nonsense that happens in palaces…? 

It looks a bit too real as Akechi summons another creature—striped, with long braids down the front and gigantic claws, but Shido can’t get a good look at it—and attacks the winged creature with some type of magic. Is this real or is this some dream conjured out of Shido’s days playing video games as a kid? Next he’ll be ripping out someone’s spine like in that one game…what was it called again…?

While Shido is distracted with his increasingly disjointed thoughts, Akechi is forced further away from him. Trapped by the winged creature’s gambit, which seems to be pushing him into the far corner. The creature’s magic forces Akechi back, back. Until they’re separated by the distance of the whole hallway. 

It takes a moment for Shido to realize he’s alone. When he does, he smiles. Now he’s fairly certain he’s dreaming. Perhaps he dozed off at his desk; he really has been overworked. Everything feels distant and dim. His muscles feel like they’re unspooling inside of him. At once he’s both stronger and weaker. Like he could lift a whole mountain, if he could only lift his feet long enough to stand.

This is a dream.  So, Shido figures he might as well see it through to the end. 

He drags himself to his feet, straightening his suit jacket. Shoulders straight, feet confident, Shido walks over to the guard dog. He’s not afraid. He’s curious. If he talks to this dog, what’ll happen? Is it like a sphinx in a folktale? Will it give him a riddle to solve or something? 

Several feet away, the dog sniffs out his presence. When it turns to him, it freezes in its track. Noise and tail pointed straight out. Before Shido’s very eyes, the dog’s form dissolves and he transform into something…bigger. Much bigger. What looks like a white lion (several times bigger than a real lion, about the size of a military tank) with a snake’s tail. Its yellow piercing eyes land on Shido and its whiskers shake. 

“You,” the lion says. It speaks in a deep booming voice. “Is it you?” 

Shido walks right up to the lion. He earnestly believes he cannot die in a dream, so he doesn’t think twice about its claws or its teeth. This close, he can smell the creature and it actually smells like…a dog. So is this a lion or a dog? With a snake tail twitching back and forth in agitation? 

Shido doesn’t know what the hell it is. 

He shrugs. Uninterested in having a conversation with this thing. “It’s me. I’m Shido Masayoshi.” He says it as if he’s speaking to anyone on the street that might have asked him the same question. There’s a lilt of pride in his voice, the way there always is whenever he says his own name. 

“You are?” The lion pads closer to him. It sniffs Shido’s face with its gargantuan snout. (Shido doesn’t even blink.) “You don’t smell like him…” 

Shido hold his arms out wide. Letting the creature smell him all it likes. He has absolutely nothing to hide. “Believe what you like,” he replies dismissively. 

The lion blinks, sauntering behind him. It wraps its snake tail around Shido’s waist. Holding him in place. The hairs on the back of Shido’s neck stand on end as he withstands hot animal breath on his shoulders. 

“No…no, you’re not him.” The lion seems to have come to a conclusion. “You’re not The Captain. You look like him and you have the same name, but you’re not him. The Captain…” The lion’s voice is so loud (even though he’s speaking softly) that Shido’s ears are ringing. “…he smells like the sea itself and the wind from the south shore, a heady wind of change. His musk tames even my wild heart and makes me want to guard this door with my life so that none may enter. You…” The lion sniffs him again. “You smell like a leaf.” 

Shido sighs. That’s his cologne. It’s mint and sandalwood, one of the most expensive brands. Not commercially available in stores. Shido has been wearing it for years. He considers it facet of himself no one else can imitate.

“I don’t have to prove I’m Shido Masayoshi,” he grunts. “Least of all to you.” 

He tries to push the snake tail away from him, but it only tightens. Shido can’t escape this creature’s grasp. For the first time, he realizes that he’s facing down a wild animal. A monster made of muscle and teeth that has the intellect of a person. Apparently. 

“But if you’re not The Captain…then what are you?” The lion continues to muse. Seeming not to hear Shido’s replies. The end of its tail curls up the side of Shido’s face. As if memorizing his features. Shido tries to catch his glasses, but they fall to the ground in spite of his efforts. Only to be crushed a moment later under the lion’s heavy paw. 

Great. Those frames were custom made. Shido clicks his tongue in irritation.

“Hmm…” The lion sets his paws on top of Shido’s shoulders. Pushing him to the ground. Shido winces as his knees buckle under the weight. He lands his hands and knees, fuming at the indignity of all this! Isn’t this supposed to be his own palace? Why is he being treated like some common riffraff?! 

“Don’t you know who I am?” Shido grits between his teeth. He’s losing his composure to his own fury. He’s just about ready to punch this lion in the nose, even though logic tells him that’s a terrible idea. His face twists in rage.

“No, I don’t.” The lion’s fur turns from white into a strange shade of pink. What the hell is happening now? “I don’t think you do, either.” 

Insults! Really?! Shido tries to shove the lion’s paws off his back. To no avail. 

“But if you don’t know, maybe I can help.” Fur bristling, the lion rears its head. A cloud of pink surges from its mouth. Because he’s unable to escape, the cloud lands right on the crown of Shido’s head. 

The second that puff of sparkly smoke touches him, Shido bellows a sharp cry. It doesn’t hurt. He’s not in pain. But…he’s…

Strong. A kernel of strength blossoms inside of him and unfurls into his muscles. Now his body finally knows which way it’s going—he has the strength of ten men. With no problem at all, he pushes the lion away from him. The lion falls backward, reduced to nothing more than an overgrown cat.

The force of that push sends a rush of euphoria through Shido. He shudders. It felt good to show his strength like that! Really good…

With every breath he takes, Shido feels better and better. In his mind, he feels like he’s towering over the world. The lion cowers before him, as it should! His hands are surging with power—almost like paws themselves! If Shido took a swipe at something, he’s sure it would come away bleeding! He leans his head back and  _ roars _ .

He’s an apex predator. His lungs burst with oxygen. He feels clear-headed and  _ right _ . He rips off his suit jacket and shirt. Going shirtless as a man should! His muscles gleam under the chandelier lights of this bizarre ship. Shido’s vision clouds, every time he blinks he sees the world in a different color. Purple, then pink, then red, then orange. But his muscles look fucking great in every light. He flexes, swelling with pride. He’s cut like a beast. Shredded from his deltoids to his abs. He runs a hand over his burning hot flesh…

_ Fuck _ that feels good…

Forget a nine iron. He’s sporting a full on baseball bat in his pants right now. Harder than diamonds. It makes Shido laugh like a madman. Who on earth could challenge the sheer might of his cock?! Who?! 

He realizes what’s happening to him now. 

The body of that lion suddenly disappears. Evaporates into a million tiny specks of glitter. That doesn’t surprise Shido. The lion is not there anymore…

…it’s inside him.

“Shido?”

Whipping around, Shido sees the sexy outline of his son. He blinks a few times. Akechi is standing right there—how the hell can he be standing there and expect nothing to happen to him? He’s unreasonably sexy. His whole body tempts Shido. Everything that he is. From his hair to his fingers to his ass to that modest little bulge between his legs, accentuated by the stripes on his black mask outfit. The secret inside of him, too. Who his mother is. What she was. What Shido is to him. Those secrets tempt Shido too. He wants to  _ own _ Akechi. It’s his right! As his father, as the king of this palace! The king of everything! 

And Akechi  _ wants _ Shido, doesn’t he? He’s been egging him on for a year! Baiting and baiting. 

Well, if you bait long enough you’re sure to catch something.

Shido unbuckles his belt. Grinning wide. The lion has found his prey. He knows exactly what he wants to do with this burgeoning club in his pants. His weapon. He knows its true purpose.

He pounces.

__________________________

That goddamn Kurama Tengu was so annoying! It took a while for Goro to defeat, even though it was so much weaker than him. As if it had some kind of status effect that made him stronger. Auto-tarukaja or something. Weird. 

He fights hard to get back to Shido. He doesn’t know what will happen once Shido is left alone. He didn’t look so good before they got separated. He was sweating and his pupils were dilated. Goro worries that the palace is having an effect on him after all.

Once the Kurama Tengu is taken care of, he runs back to the door. Only to find a giant Cerberus hovering over Shido with his paws on his back.

Fuck! Worst case scenario! 

Goro charges at full speed, but he’s too far away to stop the Cerberus from unleashing an attack. It’s a strange attack though. One Goro has never seen a Cerberus use. Its fur goes pink. Like it’s casting Marin Karin…

Oh, shit. 

“Shido!” 

Something happens. 

When Shido stands up again he’s…different. Much stronger, for one. He erases the Cerberus with a sweep of his hand. Although it kind of looked like the Cerberus knew that would happen? Like it planned on dying, or sacrificed itself just to cast that spell? 

Not only that, Shido starts yelling at the top of his lungs. The sound echoes through the halls. But it actually doesn’t attract shadows. There are guards and guard dogs in the corners of the cruise ship minding their business. Completely oblivious. As if this is all normal.

Goro’s mind races. What’s happening to Shido? His cognitive footprint…is it changing? He tries to remember all the bits and pieces of cognitive research he’s digested over the years. Was there anything like this in the data? 

He doesn’t think there ever was. He’s coming up empty. 

Basically, he has no idea what’s going on.

Shido suddenly throws his jacket and shirt to the ground. He stands there naked to the waist, admiring his own muscles like the prime narcissist he is. Goro can’t help blushing, though. He knows that Shido works out. It’s obvious on the expanse of his chest. Shido is well-toned. Especially for a man his age. But honestly his age doesn’t even enter the equation when Goro looks at him…

He wants to slap himself. He scratches his own arms vigorously to dispel those disgusting thoughts. He  _ can’t _ find Shido attractive. The man is his worst enemy! And his…father. He can’t possibly be looking at his own father in that kind of light! All the flirting he was doing was just an act! To catch Shido in a compromising position and use as blackmail. Just because Shido is apparently perverted enough not to care about the boundaries of nature and decency, that doesn’t mean Goro is anything like him!

The pool of warmth that spread through his stomach when he saw Shido shirtless…that tiny of bit interest…it makes Goro want to throw up. 

Swallowing the bile that came up in his throat, Goro hesitantly approaches Shido. They need to leave. Now. Or, preferably, twenty minutes ago. 

“Shido?” 

He doesn’t know what to expect from the man at this point. He doesn’t seem to be in his right mind. When Shido turns around, Goro recognizes the unfocused, intense look on his face. It’s the brainwash effect. Even though it seems a bit different. Shido’s not a zombie. He seems attentive and spry. Plus, there is no shadow controlling him. What good is the brainwash effect if there’s no enemy to fight? Exactly what kind of spell was it that Cerberus cast?

Whatever it is, it’s the last fucking thing they need.

“Okay, um…” Goro holds his hands up. Shido is walking towards him with a determined look in his eyes. He’s unbuckling his belt. “Just hold on…I think I have an amrita drop here somewhere—”

Unfortunately, Goro doesn’t get the chance to search for the amrita drop. 

A solid weight slams into him and he’s forced against the wall. His body doesn’t have time to react and his brain can’t keep up. There’s a hot, wet mouth on top of his own. A tongue. Searching inside his mouth. Hands pull at the fabric of his black mask outfit, pulling and pulling until it rips—

“Mmm!” Goro struggles against the impossible force of his father. His mouth breaks away and he shouts, “Stop! What the fuck, no—!” 

But Shido doesn’t hear him. He kisses him again, beyond rough. Slamming his lips against his teeth hard enough to draw blood. Goro tastes the hot coppery rush from his split lip, mixed with the sour taste of panic, and realizes in a terrifying rush what’s happening to him. 

No! Not like this! 

Goro reaches subconsciously for his phone, but it’s nowhere to be found. His pants are…detached, at the moment. Somewhere over there. Not only that, the phone wouldn’t work anyway in the metacognitive world. So why does he even bother?

This is finally happening. And he can’t even record it like he planned. 

Cruel.

Shido’s iron hands spread his legs apart. They plunder the sensitive skin on his inner thighs. Rubbing and rubbing. While Shido licks the blood off his lips. The blood only seems to rile Shido up even more. He grunts like an animal and presses something huge and hard against Goro’s leg—

“Get the fuck off me!” Goro screams. He lashes out with two fistfuls of claws. Scratching and kicking. He tries to kick Shido in the balls, but misses. Landing a blow against his knee. 

At that, Shido staggers. He catches himself on the wall. Some kind of sick parody. Glasses gone, shirt gone, pants undone and sliding down. But he’s still grinning from ear to ear. The scratch marks from Goro’s claws are deep. One slash begins to bleed. Shido blinks down at the mark blearily. He doesn’t seem fazed. 

“You’re so fierce,” Shido warbles in a low, predatory tone. “I like that.” 

Goro swallows hard. Shido is coming towards him again. He backs up, considering summoning Loki. One good fire spell would obliterate Shido, wouldn’t it? Or maybe not. If he’s under some kind of status effect. But it’s worth a try! 

Goro’s psyche hovers around the pulse of energy it uses to call Loki. He should just end this. Kill the man. Once and for all. Put an end to the world’s misery—especially his own! He should…he’ll never get another chance like this! He could even say the shadows did it! That they went berserk and killed Shido in his own palace! Goro barely managed to escape with his life!

It’s the perfect alibi. If he can kill Shido now, it’s over. 

He should just kill him. 

Kill him…

Shido comes to a stop right in front of him. Goro raises his hands, ready to fight again. His arms are shaking, trying to anticipate what the hell Shido might do next—

But he’s still not ready for what Shido does. He gasps as Shido reaches out and rips the black mask off Goro’s face. Leaving him exposed. 

“There.” Shido smiles at Goro’s bare face. “There’s my boy.” 

Something tight shatters inside Goro. His brain fries and his arms fall limply to his sides. Everything is frozen inside of him—bracing against the damage Shido just dealt with that comment. A blow that leaves him reeling, unable to summon the willpower to fight. 

His…boy…

Shido wraps an arm around Goro’s hips. Shoving them together. He rubs his nose against Goro’s neck…lovingly. Inhaling his scent. He presses several hot kisses to the sensitive skin there, lapping at the soft place where Goro’s neck meets his shoulders. His tongue is burning hot. 

It makes Goro’s knees tremble. He feels a pulse of interest somewhere there definitely should not be. 

“I’m not your boy,” Goro hisses. But his hands are resting docilely against Shido’s shoulders. His eyes flutter closed as Shido sucks on his adam’s apple. He can smell Shido everywhere. He can taste the lingering saliva in his mouth from when they kissed. Suddenly he’s licking his lips. Chasing the taste.

“Yes you are.” Shido chuckles against his skin. Sending shivers to places Goro doesn’t want to think about. “You’ve always been my boy.” 

The world is spinning too fast. Goro hears a high whine of feedback in the back of his mind—that feeling again. Morality. Common sense. This is wrong on so many levels. He hates Shido, he’s never actually wanted to have sex with him for real. Never,  _ never _ ! All those dreams he had about Shadow Shido fucking the cognitive version of him were trauma-induced! He was just so scarred by it…and in the morning, when he jerked himself off, he was just trying to make himself feel better to forget the horrible memory…

But…

“…always?” Goro asks in a small voice. 

“Of course, always.” Shido admits it like it’s nothing! Like he’s just commenting on the weather, stating an undeniable fact! Those casual words tear a hole in Goro’s chest that nothing can fill…except…

“Since the moment I met you, you’ve been nothing but mine.” With a wrenching cry of ripped fabric, Shido yanks the rest of Goro’s black mask costume off his body. Leaving him in nothing but tight black briefs, his claws gloves, and his boots. Not counting a few pieces of tattered black fabric. What remains of the costume. 

“And before that you were mine too,” Shido continues. Grabbing Goro’s chin so hard it will probably leave a mark. “I just didn’t know about you yet.” 

I knew about you, Goro wants to say. I always knew your name. Who you were. I’ve known about you my whole life.

But he doesn’t get a chance to say anything because Shido is kissing him again. His lips are so warm. His kisses like he’s trying to eat Goro, sucking on his tongue, biting his lips like they’re sweet as candy. This time, instead of fighting, Gore moans into the kiss. 

It’s a quiet moan, though. 

The waves of tingling sensation spreading through him…are these real? Is this some kind of trick? Has he been brainwashed too? Why is he panting? Where are those sounds coming from? Why does this…feel so good? 

A manly hand snakes between Goro’s legs and grabs a handful of his hard-on. Goro cries out in surprise—it’s two fold. He didn’t expect Shido to touch him there so suddenly…and he didn’t realize how hard he was. When did he get that hard? 

“You’re loving this, aren’t you?” Shido pants. Grinding the heel of his hand into Goro’s twitching cock. “You’ve been wanting this a long time. I know you have. You’ve been practically begging me for it.”

The squeezes on his cock are making Goro see stars. He rocks his hips into Shido’s hand before he can stop himself. Shido’s hand…his father’s hand…it feels amazing! 

Biting his lip, Goro throws himself back against the wall. He needs to stop. Catch his breath. He’s losing himself to this. To Shido’s unbearable heat and strength, his hot breath and steely hands. To his words. Those words that drown Goro’s mind in sweet honey, making everything sticky and cloyingly sweet. 

_ You’ve been nothing but mine. _

_ Always. _

_ You’ve been wanting this a long time. Practically begging for it. _

“No, no that’s not true…!” Goro shakes his head hard. Holding Shido at arm’s length. “I don’t…” 

He can’t give in! Once gives in, he’ll never be able to come back from it! The feedback in his head is shrill, reaching a fever pitch.

Shido sighs. Shakes his head sadly. Then, with one hand (nothing but  _ one hand _ ) he sends Goro tumbling to the ground. Goro hits the floor like a ton of bricks. Knocked off balance by the push and the distressing thoughts ravaging his mind. He cowers from Shido, who is standing over him menacingly. 

“Still denying it? What kind of game are you playing?” Shido bends down. Crawls towards Goro on all fours. Like a… “Am I going to have to get rough with you?” 

Somehow, Shido’s head comes up between his legs. Then his shoulders, his chest, his stomach. Until they are laying chest to chest. He pins Goro to the floor and kisses him again. Shido was threatening to get rough with him—but this  _ isn’t _ rough? Goro is mostly naked, with a split lip, several hickeys, and the wind knocked out of him. Does Shido get rougher than this?!

Why does the thought of that—a promise with no mental image to go with it—make Goro even harder? His cock jumps against Shido’s stomach. Shido feels it, of course, it would be impossible not to, and he smiles into their kiss. Taking it as license to reach down and…

“No, don’t!” 

Ignoring him, Shido snaps the underwear off his hips. Leaving Goro completely nude. He cries out in shame when his whole body is revealed. He feels defenseless and on display. His cock is red and throbbing, his chest heaving. It’s not only his nakedness that leaves him vulnerable, but the confusing feelings inside. 

He should be fighting. He should be fighting harder! 

He should have destroyed Shido by now!

But he didn’t. He didn’t and here they are.

Shido leers down at Goro’s exposed parts. Licking his chops. Some drool escapes his mouth anyway and lands on Goro’s stomach. Damn, Shido really is an animal—

Without warning, Shido devours Goro’s cock whole. It fits in his mouth perfectly. Shido sucks him from root to tip without hesitation. Working him in his hot, adult mouth like he’s an old pro. 

“Oh, FUCK!” Goro throws his head back and screams. Nothing could have prepared him for how good it feels to have his dick sucked. 

Time for the real truth: Goro acts like he’s way more experienced than he is. He doesn’t consider himself a virgin (how could he? Considering all the things that happened to him when he was little?), but there are still so many things he’s never done. Almost everything, in fact. No one has ever sucked his dick before, and he’s hardly gone any farther than kissing with people his own age…

Now, the first person to give him this pleasure—licking the vein on the underside and sucking the tip in the back of his throat, stimulating the entire surface area of his cock—is Shido. His own father. It’s beyond shameful. It’s horrific and mortally wrong…shouldn’t the sameness of their DNA prevent such a thing from feeling this good? Why are Goro’s eyes rolling back in his head? Why are his hips stuttering up into Shido’s mouth? Why is he so close to cumming already—

Hopeless. Shame and despair seep deep into Goro’s bones. He’s broken beyond repair, he knows that. There’s nothing in the world that can fix him now. 

“There you go.” Shido slips his mouth away and Goro almost cries at the loss. He wants to touch himself to get that high back, but he knows it won’t feel the same. “That’s it. Take it like a good boy.” 

When Shido’s mouth returns to him, it doesn’t go to his cock. It goes to the  _ other _ place, behind his balls. In the back. A place Goro has been mutely curious about ever since he saw the cognitive version of himself getting it so good back there. But he never had the courage to actually try anything himself.

Shido’s tongue…his father’s tongue…licking a secret place that Goro is sure he’s never shown to anyone else in the world before…a hole that opens under Shido’s tongue as if it wants to invite him in. Why does this feel so right? Why is he lifting his legs in the air like a prostitute (like—)? Why is he holding the backs of his knees to give Shido as much access as he possibly can?

“N-no…n-no I…” Goro shivers every time Shido’s laps at him. He shakes his head, even as he pulls his cheeks further apart. Wishing that tongue would stay on his hole forever and never leave him— 

“Hmm?” Shido raises his head. His eyes are sharp. Far too sharp for someone afflicted with brainwash. “Did I hear a ‘no’?” 

Hot tears prick Goro’s eyes. He’s torn in every direction. The seed of a hatred for himself that—one he has not yet fully begun to feel—plants itself firmly inside. He can barely hear anything over the ringing of static in his ears. He knows all that and yet…

He would give  _ anything _ for Shido to put his mouth on him again.

“No, no, I don’t…it’s…no…” Goro doesn’t know what the fuck he’s saying anymore. He can’t think. He doesn’t know what to do. He needs his father—

He needs his father to tell him what to do.

“You’re a mess,” Shido scoffs. It’s obvious, but it still hurts Goro on some level to hear it said so plainly. “But don’t worry. I know exactly what you need.”

Teeth bared, grinning like a lunatic, Shido yanks his own cock free from his pants. Whipping it out like a statement. It’s, in a word, huge. Goro’s eyes widen and he feels himself shrink back in fear. He had no idea Shido was so big—he thought everything the cognitive version of himself spewed was just lip service. But no. It’s big. What is he supposed to do with that?! 

And yet…his mouth is watering at the sight. He’s suddenly imagining the taste. What does his father’s cock taste like? After all, this is the dick that  _ made _ him. Years ago, Shido came inside his mother and then Akechi Goro was born…on an untouchably deep level, Goro respects this cock. His hand reaches out shakily. He wants to touch it, but he’s also scared. Of what it will make him feel. 

“You like it?” Shido asks cockily. Crowing like peacock at the reveal of his own dick. 

Goro looks up his father. Uncertainty in his eyes. He’s naked except for his claws and boots. He’s a caricature of himself. A parody. He’s nothing. But he knows…

Tell me I want it. 

He can’t say the words out loud, but he screams them inside. Wishing Shido could hear. Screaming, screaming. Saying nothing. Staring at his father silently.

Laughing, Shido grabs one of Goro’s legs and throws it over his shoulder. He lines his cock up to Goro’s entrance. “Yeah, you want it. I can tell.” 

Spell broken, Goro collapses in on himself like a dying star. “I want it! I want it so bad! Please, please! Let me have your cock, Shido!” 

It doesn’t make sense—this is definitely going to hurt; they haven’t prepped Goro at all—but it’s true. In the space of this corridor, driven towards each other by forces they don’t understand, riding on a fake cruise ship in drowned Tokyo, this is where they are. They both want it. 

“I’ll give it to you. Just like you deserve—”

Shido spears Goro on his engorged cock. Merciless from the start. Plunging into him until he bottoms out. It’s excruciatingly painful for a moment and Goro cries—until he registers the feeling of being  _ full _ . This is Shido inside of him—Shido has put his cock in  _ there  _ and now they’re together.

“Ah…!” Goro’s whole body shakes. He’s coming apart on this dick and Shido hasn’t even moved yet. “M-move…p-please…move!”

Shido bends over. Shoves Goro’s ear in his mouth and sucks as hard as he can. “You want me to give it to you good?” 

Goro wraps his arms and his legs around his father. Surrendering himself. The feedback in his soul shorts out. Fades to nothing. Pure silence. He feels free.

“Yes, give it to me…” 

So, Shido gives it to him. He thrusts once. Then twice. By the third time, Goro is howling at the top of his lungs. There are so many sensitive places inside of him that he never knew existed—Shido is touching them all. He’s dragging joy and pleasure and excitement out of Goro with every inch of his cock. These are feelings Goro has always been afraid to feel. He’s not sure he’s ever really felt them. But now…

He’s happy. 

He’s so happy! 

He claws at his father’s back. “Ah! Keep going! Please! It’s…so good!” 

Shido is snarling like a beast. Hammering him deep. He’s not pacing himself or slowing down for Goro’s benefit, giving him absolutely no quarter. He’s fucking him without any thought to his well-being, driven forward only by pure instinct and lust. A lust that has finally been allowed to breathe. The bridle taken off. 

Goro’s vision goes hazy around the edges. His breath is coming in harsh gasps. Shido is wrecking him. Plowing into his sweet spot again and again. Goro’s orgasm hits him completely by surprise—he wasn’t expecting to cum so soon! Without even a hand on his cock! But when he cums, Goro is  _ drowning _ in it. Spilling rope after rope of hot cum onto his stomach. He’s a lifeboat lost at sea, devoured by the waves. Never to come up again. Shido’s cock keeps him cumming for a torturously long time. He doesn’t slow down one bit just because Goro found release. He keeps going. His stamina is insane. He’s not human—he’s—

No sooner does Goro’s orgasm fade then he’s driven into another one. This one makes him squeeze himself against Shido so hard he thinks they might meld together. That would be perfect. He can’t ride this orgasm out on his own. He needs Shido to help him. 

“Hold me! Hold me!” Goro sobs into Shido’s chest. He’s dying from pleasure. “Hold me, Shido! I’m…I’m your boy…so…hold me!” 

Grunting, Shido folds his arms underneath Goro. Locking him in a facsimile of an embrace. His hips somehow speed up. He’s driving into Goro like a jackhammer. Hard and deep. Using Goro as if he’s barely even a person. But Goro loves every second of it. He’s cumming so much and so often he can’t really tell the difference, if it ever breaks completely. He just keeps going. There’s nothing left inside of him, but he keeps going. 

When Shido releases, he bites Goro’s chest. Leaving a deep wound in a circle around his nipple. Teeth marks that nearly bleed. It’s a claiming bite. No other way of looking at it. 

They breathe each other for several long moments afterwards. Then, impossibly, Shido’s hips start to move again.

“Wha…?” Goro’s eyes go wide in fear. “Again?” 

“Oh, son,” Shido smiles on one side of his face. “Don’t tell me you thought we were done?”

Goro shakes his head. Digging his claws into his hair. If Shido keeps fucking him like this, he really will go insane! “No more! Please! I can’t take anymore, I’ve been cumming nonstop—”

Shido claps a hand over his mouth. Fucks him while holding his face in one hand. “No more talking.” 

So they don’t talk. Goro isn’t sure how long it lasts. He really does black out, more than once, but he’s never certain if Shido actually stops. It feels like he doesn’t. Whatever spell he’s under makes him rejuvenate at terrifying speed. He doesn’t need breaks in between sessions. By now, it seems his dick will keep getting hard until the spell breaks.

Goro isn’t sure he’ll survive this. Flutters of things that feel like orgasms pass through him and then they’re gone. He needs Shido to stop. Or one of them really will die!

Thank god he kept this…

Goro reaches into his boot. There’s a Salvation in there. His final play, stashed there for emergencies only. Now is a pretty good time to use it! He tosses the medicine on Shido and watches as Shido shivers like a monster. Muscles straining. He trembles several times and then fully collapses on top of his son. 

Passed out. 

Still inside him. 

Goro takes a moment to breathe. He feels Shido’s back rising and falling. So he’s still alive. They both survived that. Even though there were a few moments when it was very uncertain. Goro can barely move. He feels like he got hit by a truck—in fact, that’s closer to the truth than it should be.

It takes all his energy to push Shido’s unconscious body off him. To pull up Shido’s pants. To summon Loki, who carries Shido to the nearest safe room. Where Goro promptly teleports them back to the entrance. 

Reality crashes upon them. It’s the middle of the night. Already the next day. Goro is supporting Shido with one arm around his shoulders, but he’s so exhausted he doesn’t know how long that will last. He’s fully clothed again in his regular clothes, but Shido….Shido had been wearing his regular clothes in the palace. So he’s still naked from the waist down. 

Shit. 

Glancing around nervously, Goro looks for a way out of this. How can he carry a half naked ministerial candidate across half of Tokyo to get to one of their apartments? He can’t. As it is, he can barely walk. He needs to call a taxi. 

The only thing he has to cover Shido is his uniform blazer. It doesn’t fit the older man, obviously, but at least the attempt is there. Goro drapes the blazer over his father’s back. He boots up his ride share app. 

Licking the cut on his lip, Goro presses ‘private car.’ That might be the best idea he’s had all day.


	2. Suffering

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The goal was to make Shido suffer. 
> 
> Wasn't it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apparently every installment of this series has to have someone throwing up. Because of reasons.

His face is cold.

“Mmm…”

Shit, his face is freezing! And his forehead keeps knocking against something hard. Dun, dun, dun. Rhythmically. 

“Stop that…”

Whatever is doing that needs to stop. Shido reaches in front of him, expecting there to be a blanket (he was asleep, so naturally, he must be in his own bed…). 

His hand grasps nothing but air. 

It takes an unnerving amount of effort to open his eyes. It feels like they were stuck together with glue. What’s worse, the world that greets his vision upon opening them is completely unfamiliar. Bright lights to the right of him, eerie darkness to the left. And he’s in motion.

“…the hell?” Shido’s mouth isn’t working properly. His lips are numb and his teeth feel heavy, like when he passes out after having too much to drink. Painstakingly, he lifts his head and realizes he was leaning against a window.

Of a car. He’s in a car. 

All at once, a sledge hammer of a headache hits him square between the eyes. A migraine like no other settles between his temples and refuses to relent. Shido is prone to migraines (part of the reason why he wears the orange glasses; they help with eyestrain from staring at screens too long, which mitigates the migraines), but he can’t remember having one like this before. The pain is so bad it rocks his equilibrium like an earthquake and he can barely tell up from down. His stomach lurches like he’s about to heave. The colors from Tokyo’s city lights are a blur and they’re making him sick.

What the hell happened? With creeping terror, Shido realizes he can’t remember how he got here. He doesn’t remember calling a car. He doesn’t remember going out to the club. Was there a party? Shido doesn’t even remember what he had to drink that night. 

He wipes the side of his face, cold where it touched the glass window. His face is wet. Horrified, Shido realizes he was drooling in his sleep. Quite a lot. A line of saliva drips down the window with humiliating clarity.

Staring at his wet hand in disbelief, Shido looks down and sees that he’s also shirtless. Not only that, there are scratch marks on his chest. Bloody ones. 

What the _fuck_ happened tonight?

(It better have been one hell of a party. And there better not have been any pictures. Because if either of those things aren’t the case, Shido is fairly certain he’s screwed.)

His jaw clenches in pain. The migraine has him in its brutal clutches. Squeezing his brains like a vice. Trying not to hurl, Shido looks around the car. He realizes he’s in the backseat. He doesn’t recognize the driver or the make of this car…but there’s someone sitting next to him. 

Gasping, Shido leans back in his seat. He didn’t know he was with someone—

Oh. It’s him. 

Akechi.

Any other day, being caught in such a compromising position (to say the least) with Akechi of all people would make Shido breathe a sigh of relief! Out of everyone in the realm of possibility that could find him caught drunk, half naked, and bleeding in the backseat of a strange car, it might as well be the person that already knows all of Shido’s dirty secrets. A person whom Shido controls. Akechi works for him, and he doesn’t drink, so he’d probably be able to tell Shido what happened…

Or at least. That _should_ have been the case.

As it is, Shido’s heart nearly stops when he sees Akechi. Simply because of the way Akechi is looking at him.

Sheer horror. That’s the look on his son’s face right now.

It’s a look that makes Shido run a careful hand over his own face. Afraid, for an honest moment, that he’s fucked up beyond all recognition. Cut or mangled, disfigured even. Shido checks himself and finds (thankfully) that he still has two eyes (glasses conspicuously missing), a mouth, and a nose. He’s not bleeding. He’s fine. 

So why…?

“What?” he barks. Pissed at Akechi for making him think the worst. “Why are you looking at me like that?” 

Like _that_. Eyes bulging, mouth hanging open and twisted into a gaping grimace of fear. Like he’s just eaten something he’s only now realizing was poisoned. Like he’s been caught red-handed with a bloody knife. 

Like his worst fears have come to life. 

Akechi’s bottom lip quivers. Now Shido can see the marks of tears staining his cheeks. He inches backwards, farther away from Shido. He presses himself flat against the seat, hands splayed against the car door. As if he might need to open it while the car is in motion to make a quick exit. 

Akechi is absolutely terrified of Shido in that moment. It’s written all over his face. All over everything about this situation. 

Shido closes his eyes wearily. Turning away from him. Something, he realizes, has gone terribly wrong here. 

It probably wasn’t a party. 

____________________________________

The hardest part about all of this is figuring out what’s the worst thing happening right now. 

For one, Goro’s strength is completely sapped. He’d been blacking out—literally _blacking out_ —while Shido was…was fucking him. Not to mention all the other things! The emotion turmoil, the fear (the joy, the ecstasy), the tears. That grueling solo battle with that strange Kurama Tengu. The palace itself. 

Goro has been through more tonight than he can ever remember. And his life hasn’t ever been easy. 

His head is spinning. His body feels sticky underneath his clothes. His ass…ugh, his ass _hurts_. So do his legs. From being held to his chest for so long. The muscles where his legs meet his ass are numb. Goro twitches to get the feeling back as he sits.

_That_ was a bad idea. Moving his ass at all. A glob of something hot and sticky slips out…shit. Goro of course knows what that is. The mess staining the inside of his underwear, seeping out into the seat of his uniform. Spreading a dark stain against the black fabric. 

It’s his father’s…

Tears swell in Goro’s eyes as he looks over at Shido, who’s still passed out and leaning against the window. He wants to cry. He had been crying, of course, while they had sex. But now he wants to cry for a different reason. His heart is tired. _Exhausted_. He feels empty. Like there’s something missing. He’s a pitcher with no water inside, dry and devoid of its purpose. He’s dust drifting through space, bits of nothing that no one ever thought or cared about. 

He’s scared. So scared his guts feel like they’re turning inside out. 

He cries silently and fights the urge to crawl closer to Shido. He wants his father. He wants his father to hold him! There’s nothing left of him. The plan, the drive, the hatred, the anger. All of that got lost somewhere while Goro was cumming endlessly on his father’s dick in his ass. He can’t find it now, out here in the real world, where everything seems harsh and cold. Unforgiving. 

Goro knows the cruelty of this world. He’s taught himself to match that cruelty tit for tat. He’s learned how to play its game. He thinks he plays it well. After all, he’s made something of himself hasn’t he? Out of nothing. But in order to survive, he’s honed his anger into a will to live. It’s the only thing that keeps him going. That anger became a plan. And then it was always the plan. Destroying Shido, getting one over on his bastard father. That’s the reason Akechi points to when he explains to himself why he’s still alive. 

And now…

He doesn’t have it. Does he? No. He doesn’t, right? No. He doesn’t think so. When he looks at Shido, he doesn’t want to destroy him. He wants to lay his head down on his chest. He wants Shido to hold him again. He wants Shido to tell him again all the things he said when they were in the palace.

_There’s my boy._

_You’ve always been mine._

_I’ll give it to you like you deserve—_

_Take it like a good boy._

_Always._

Goro wipes his tears, afraid of what comes next. Whatever happens, the Goro that existed before tonight is ruined. He knows that with absolute certainty. As well as he knows that he’ll be leaving a puddle of slick filth behind on the seat when he gets out of this ride share. 

His bones feel sick. Irradiated with shame and terror. With _hope_. The one thing Goro promised himself he would never have to feel—hope! Hope that Shido will hold him when he wakes up. That he will say it all again. That Goro will get to have… _him_! Something. A father. An adult that wants him. Someone who cares about him—

“Mmm…stop that…” 

Shido starts to wake up. 

It takes him a while. He seems extremely disoriented. He was drooling on the window and now his face is soaked. He groans like he’s about to be sick. 

He doesn’t know where he is, Goro reasons. That’s a confusing experience for anyone—

But then Shido looks at him and gasps. Like he wasn’t expecting Goro to be there. Like he…forgot.

Oh. Oh no. _No_. No please, God, don’t do this to me, why—

“What?” Shido is yelling at him. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Goro has no idea what his face looks like. His hand fumbles for the door handle. He needs to get out. He can’t breathe. 

He feels like the aftermath of a shattered glass pane. There’s chunks of all different sizes. Sharp and jagged. Ground down into powder in places, crunching under the weight of human feet. Dangerous, but only because of their displacement from their purpose. The glass used to be smooth and beautiful. Now it’s a mess that will never be fully cleaned up. There will be pieces of him showing up here and there forever afterwards.

Shido doesn’t remember. 

He doesn’t _remember_. The worst and best, most horrifying, intense, painful, special moment of Goro’s life and Shido just _forgot_ —

“I, umm…” Goro swallows hard. Calm down. Calm the fuck down. Wait. “So…what’s, um. What’s the last thing you remember?” 

Shido leans all the way forward. Tucks his head between his knees. Is he going to be sick? Part of Goro honestly isn’t sure he can handle the sight of that. The other part of him wants to rush to Shido’s side and rub his back to make him feel better—he’s fucked. _Really_ fucked.

His father’s muffled response comes at last. “I remember…the Diet building. Were we at the Diet building just now?” 

Blood and sanity drain from Goro’s face. “Uh, yeah. We were. Do you remember the palace at all…?” 

“What palace?” 

Goro wants to scream. Does Shido even remember who the hell he is?!

“Your palace…” Goro’s voice is no louder than a quiver. 

Shido grunts. It’s not an answer; he seems to be having difficulty breathing. Or keeping himself together. “My palace…?” 

“Hey,” This is from the front seat now. Their ride share driver. A young, clean-cut guy with a t-shirt that reads in English, inexplicably, ‘Mahou Indigo.’ “Ain’t I seen you guys somewhere before? Like on the TV or something?” 

“Who’s that?” Shido asks Goro quietly. Still between his knees. 

“Our driver,” Goro answers. “I got us a ride share.” 

Shido curses and tries to lift his head to level a stabbing glare at Goro. “Fuck, why? Why didn’t you call my personal driver? I gave you the number…ugh.” He folds back in on himself. Pressing his temples.

He must have a migraine. Goro knows all about Shido’s secret weakness to these headaches. He’s seen Shido taking prescription medication for them. So they must be pretty bad. 

Shido is suffering right now. The realization hits Goro in a variety of ways. His first instinct is to get Shido his medication—they must be near a pharmacy or something—but then Goro swiftly snuffs out this urge. That part of him, the part that aches for Shido’s approval, must be killed. Goro is ruined through and through and he can’t think of any reason why he should care about Shido’s well-being…

Despite the fact that his father just took his virginity and gave him everything his body and mind have ever wanted. That, and much more. Too much more. Things he didn’t want. Doubts and fears. Self-hate. The fact that Shido unmade Goro and rebuilt him in his own image—

No. Fuck that. 

Goro smiles. Shido is suffering. 

Good. 

Shido deserves to suffer.

Goro’s smile widens. He’s grinning like a maniac, eyes suddenly alive and hungry. Feeding on the pretty picture of Shido doubled over in pain. 

He leans back in his seat. “Have you seen us before?” Goro asks the driver. Sounding nonchalant, legitimately curious. “Like on the news or something?” 

“Shut up, idiot!” Shido hisses. “Don’t give him any hints—”

“Wait, stop!!” 

Interrupting everything, the driver screeches the car to a halt on Goro’s command. They both lurch forward in the backseat. Shido’s head slams into the seat in front of him and he shuts up real fast. Wrenching his mouth closed to keep from crying out in pain. Now that he’s himself again, he won’t ever admit weakness. 

But that sudden stop must have really hurt his poor head. 

“My apologies,” Goro coos to the driver. “I thought this was our stop. I was mistaken. Please keep going.” 

Muttering to himself, the driver starts the car smoothly. He’s actually a very good driver, but Goro intentionally scared the crap out of him there. Now he probably just doesn’t want a bad rating. So he keeps to himself from then on.

Shido would be absolutely furious with Goro after that little show, except he doesn’t seem to be able to open his eyes. He’s clenching his own ankles to withstand the pain. 

The rest of the ride is remarkably quiet. Goro isn’t crying anymore. He’s looking out the window. Thinking of what to do next. 

Is this a blessing in disguise? Shido forgot everything that happened between them in the palace. So now they can go on just like…like it never happened. The plan isn’t ruined. Goro doesn’t have to reinvent the entire foundation he’s built his life on. He doesn’t need to hope anymore. There’s nothing to hope for! Shido doesn’t remember! 

Like it never happened…

It never happened. 

Never! 

Perfect. _Perfect_. It’s perfect isn’t it? Just perfect!

Goro’s hands are shaking by the time they reach Shido’s apartment. He doesn’t know why. His knees are trembling. What’s wrong with him…? 

Before the car even comes to a full stop, Shido bursts out the door and falls right to his knees on the pavement. He heaves loudly onto the street, throwing up whatever was in his stomach. Goro listens (he doesn’t look) and starts laughing. The giggles come from somewhere in his stomach and they tickle on their way out of him. He has to press a hand to his mouth to stop them. 

“Uh, are you okay?” The driver is leaning out the window. Gawking. Then he turns back to Goro. “Is he okay, man?” 

“I’m fine.” 

Shido stands up straight. His face is white as a sheet and he’s wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. But his face is calm. Steady. That’s the alabaster Goro is familiar with. Shido reaches into his back pocket for his wallet, which is miraculously still there. He pulls out some bills and shoves them at driver, keeping his fist in front of his face to disguise his features. 

“Take this and never tell anyone what you saw tonight,” Shido commands. He pauses, takes out another bill and adds it to the pile. “I’ve seen your face and I memorized your license plate number. So it would be easy for me to find you again. Understand? Just take the money and forget.” 

Blinking rapidly, the driver slowly takes the money. He doesn’t look back up at Shido as he nods his agreement. 

Just like that, Shido turns on his heels and walks into his apartment building. Back straight. As proud and confident as he would be if he were walking in front of a line of camera. Even though he’s bare-chested, covered in bloody scratches, wearing nothing dusty pants that have vomit in more than one place. That’s just who Shido is. A prideful asshole to his dying breath. 

Wordlessly, the driver takes Goro to his apartment next. Goro wishes Mahou Indigo a pleasant evening and adds another few bills of his own as a tip. Mostly because he kind of feels bad for him. The guy never asked for this. And Shido’s threat was certainly a real one. 

Once he’s finally alone, Goro stands in his apartment and lets the door close behind him. He doesn’t turn on the lights right away. He just stands in the darkness and looks out the far window at the tiny, myriad lights of the city. 

There’s light on the outside but none on the inside. That feels right. 

He doesn’t turn the lights on for the rest of the night. He undresses in the dark. Showers in the dark. Cleans the blood and cum out of his ass. Runs a washcloth over hickeys and bite marks. A particularly nasty bite singes the edges of the areola on his left nipple. Goro cleans the wound with disinfectant. Pads it with cotton. Covers it with gauze. The darkness makes it hard to be accurate, but Goro does his best.

He takes care of his physical body. Rote and unfeeling.

This body is all he has left now. The mind and the heart inside of him are traitorous. Untrustworthy, fickle things. He gave in to Shido so easily…

Laying in a clean bed with clean sheets, a clean body, clean hair, and clean pajamas, Goro feels dirtier than he’s ever felt in his life. 

He gave in to Shido with hardly any fight at all. A few scratches, that’s it?! That’s all it took before Goro was spreading his legs like some deranged slut?! There must be something so horribly wrong with him to want that…to want what Shido was offering him, when Shido was clearly under a status effect and saying nothing that made sense…Goro is so terribly broken and disgusting. 

No wonder no one ever loved him. Certainly, no one ever will. How could they?! Goro is something that should not exist! He never had any permission to live since the moment of his conception and he’s been fighting for the right to draw breath ever since! Clearly there is something filthy and monstrous written in the code of his DNA. It comes as no surprise. That must be why he is the way he is. 

In the darkness, he cries. 

His whole body hurts. The soreness in his lower half. The bruises, cuts, and bites. He hurts so bad.

And when he closes his eyes….he remembers the way it felt. Shido’s arms around him. His mouth on his lips. So hot and honest and _present_. Hungry for him. His hands searching. His tongue in his ass. Licking him open until Goro shivered. His cock. Filling him to the brim…

_You’ve always been my boy._

A blood curdling scream works its way out of Goro’s mouth. He jumps out of bed and throws on the lights in his bedroom. The light drowns out the images in his head, but his ears are still ringing. Frantic, Goro runs around his apartment turning on every single light he has. His apartment is bathed in light. There’s hardly any room for a shadow to hide. 

Panting, sweating, Goro stands with one hand on the light switch and tries to breathe. He’s already half hard between his legs. The hole in back of him is twitching at the memory of being full. It won’t _stop_.

Goro digs the heel of his hand into the bite mark on his chest. He wants it to hurt. He needs to get a handle on these thoughts. He needs to shut it all down. Now! The sting of the wound, crying in protest at Goro’s treatment, helps him breathe. 

It doesn’t matter.

None of it matters.

Shido doesn’t remember.

It never happened. There’s nothing to remember! 

It never happened.

_____________________________

The researchers and Shido’s own personal doctors give him several examinations. An assessment of his vitals and a thorough psychological examination (which amounts to Shido sitting in a chair and talking about the last thing he remembers about that night: Standing in front of the Diet building with Akechi) show that Shido retains no memory of anything that happened inside the palace. His body went into some kind of psychic shock—apparently his psyche could not handle the strain of being in his own palace (which would have been nice to know beforehand)—and suppressed the memories as a survival mechanism. There are no lingering physical effects. After several days, nothing changes. No memories return. 

Shido takes his migraine pills, lays off the alcohol for a week, and feels better. 

The attempt to create a psychic lock is labelled a categorical failure. No one ever speaks about it again. None of the people in Shido’s inner circle like to talk about their failures. So it’s like the whole incident never happened. Only the people in that meeting know an attempt was ever made, and the only other living person who knows what happened to Shido is…

Akechi.

Well.

Shido wasn’t lying when he said he memorized that driver’s license plate. His mind is uncannily sharp when it needs to be. When his ass is on the line. He wrote the number down as soon as he got into his apartment, before he even rinsed out his mouth, so he wouldn’t forget. The next morning, he had one of his people run the plates through their own server. By lunchtime Shido had a full name, address, phone number, family registry, and criminal history for the guy. Everything that’s a matter of public record. 

Shido knows that most likely he’ll need to kill the guy no matter what. Preferably sooner rather than later, before he has time to think about going to the press. That driver is an unfortunate loose end Shido doesn’t like to live with. At the very least they could trump up some charges form his criminal history, parking violations or some such, and have him locked up for a few years. Just until the election is over. No one will believe the word of a criminal, after all. 

But it’s easier to just have him killed. Less complicated. Anyone can disappear if you drive around Tokyo at all hours for a living. It’s a no brainer. Still, Shido knows he should limit the killings only to the bare essentials, because murders are a conspicuous affair…but then again, this ride share driver did clean Shido’s drool and vomit out of his car. So you could call this an essential killing. Anyway, it’s a decision. He gives himself a few days to decide.

Other than that, it’s really just Akechi that knows anything. 

There’s a knock on Shido’s door. He glances up from his tablet, straightening his glasses. “Come in.” 

Sure enough, Akechi bows his way into his office. His eyes are permanently looking down now. He head permanently bowed. Shido can’t help noticing that Akechi doesn’t look at him as much anymore. And when he does, he’s smiling so hard his eyes are closed. 

It’s…creepy. 

Why won’t Akechi look at him?

Well, it’s not like Shido was born yesterday. He’s not a complete buffoon. He knows that something happened in his palace. Something that Akechi isn’t saying. Yes he gave a report; they entered the palace without any issue, Akechi dealt with a shadow and left Shido alone by the door. When he returned, Shido was shirtless and scratched up, passed out, with a group of shadows hovering nearby. Akechi’s persona dealt with those shadows, then carried him out of the palace. Where he called a stupid fucking ride share. But there’s more to the story. 

It’s not obvious in the things Akechi does, which on the surface are nothing out of the ordinary. It’s obvious in the things he _doesn’t_ do.

For one, he won’t look at Shido directly. He won’t stand within a full meter of him either. He won’t approach Shido’s desk like he used to, won’t sit in his vicinity at meetings. He won’t even share an elevator with him—which came up once by chance as Shido was returning from lunch to find Akechi waiting for an elevator in the lobby. Suddenly, Akechi bowed and said he just remembered he needed to make a call to the prosecutor. Something urgent and personal. He shuffled away before Shido could get a word in. 

Akechi has been keeping him at a tremendous distance. Which is odd, considering the way they were before they went into the palace. Akechi could barely keep his hands off Shido! He was throwing himself at him all the damn time! 

That suffocating, capricious little…

That aside, Shido knows something happened in the palace for other reasons as well. Things that aren’t written in the report.

Scratch marks on his ass. That doesn’t add up. Goro said he found Shido with his shirt ripped. But how could there be scratch marks on his ass if his pants were on the whole time? There weren’t any tears in his pants where claws or some kind might have broken through. Furthermore, why would a shadow leave scratch marks _there_? 

Shido almost didn’t find those marks. He discovered them in the shower days later. Four long, straight cuts on the meat of his ass. Stinging him under the water to get his attention. Shido stared at those scratch marks in the mirror for a while afterwards trying to think of where on earth they could be from…

The last time he’d had sex with a woman was over a month ago. Too busy. No way the marks could have been from her, these were fresh. Besides, these scratches were finger-width apart and thin, the same as the marks on his chest…

It’s suspicious. Shido would be willing to chalk those marks up to palace nonsense, however, (yes, he could actually do that, that’s how much he doesn’t want to think about whatever happened there), he also…

_“I want it! I want it so bad! Please, please! Let me have your cock, Shido!”_

Shido’s been having dreams. Recurring dreams. Nightmares, really, but…who the fuck is he kidding, they’re not nightmares. He’s having dreams about fucking his son. Again. Hardly the first time. But these dreams…

They’re more real than ever before. Shido sees Akechi up close, wearing black gloves and a strange mask, crying and panting right up against Shido’s face. Screaming for his cock. Begging for it! Not timid or shy like in Shido’s other fantasies. This Akechi is demanding. Not asking. _Demanding_. He knows what he wants. He wants his father’s big fat cock. And Shido, of course, gives it to him. Over and over again. Until Goro passes out from pleasure.

It’s a great fantasy.

…But since when does Akechi call him ‘Shido?’ No one calls him that. It’s always Shido-san or Shido-sama or something. No honorific? Who would dare? 

Those fantasies, as hot as they are, don’t make any sense. Shido jerks off from the memories of these dreams, obviously, but at the same time they don’t quite sit well with him. How is he coming up with these things? They’re nothing like his usual fantasies, an Akechi that comes to Shido willing and servile. This Akechi is wild, screaming at the top of his lungs, fighting and scratching. Those gloves, for god’s sake! 

Why? What has changed about Shido’s tastes when it comes to Akechi…?

Over time, Shido’s rational mind gives him two possibilities. One: His mind did weird things when it saw those unexplained scratch marks on his ass. Put two and two together and made six. Ran away with itself coming up with a vivid fantasy to match what he’s been dreaming about for a while now. So he’s suddenly dreaming about a feral Akechi with claws and horns because his mind was incepted with the notion. Some palace mumbo jumbo, his psyche becoming more prone to the power of suggestion.

And sure. That is technically a possibility. 

But the much more rational explanation is the only other possibility. Deductive reasoning. That means…

“Make your report,” Shido barks. Akechi is still looking down. His blood boils. He really fucking hates looking at the top of his son’s head.

“I discovered her palace at courthouse, near the police precinct. It’s a casino. It’s just as we thought, Shido-san. I believe the plan will work perfectly…” 

All of Akechi’s words are directed at the floor. Shido can’t stand it anymore! He wants to slam his hand on the desk and demand to know who exactly his son is speaking to like that! Shido is his father, damn it, he deserves to see Akechi’s face when he addresses him! What kind of coward can’t face the person in front of him—

Yes, Shido wants to do all of that. He wants to scold Akechi and make demands. But he knows…

His mouth draws into a thin line. A greenish gray feeling of sick certainty rears its head inside Shido. He knows that he can’t possibly threaten Akechi with anything. He knows that his threats will fall out of his mouth like limp straw. Toothless and worthless. Not meaning a thing. 

What happened in the palace…Shido knows what he did. He doesn’t know for sure, of course, but then again…in a way he does. He knows. 

The only question he has left, the final and most important question: How did it happen? Did Akechi come onto him? Or did Shido lose his mind and…? 

Was it rape? Or did Akechi…did he like it at all? In his dreams, Akechi loved it! But Shido doesn’t know if he can trust his own mind. His psyche has become a weaponized force in its own right. Its power is distortion. There’s no way he can put his faith in those fantasies with his mind the way it is. 

Besides, if Akechi did enjoy it, then he certainly would say something. Wouldn’t he? He’d definitely bring up the matter at least once! Hadn’t he been the one who wanted it most of all? So if he enjoyed whatever the hell happened in that palace—some depraved, kinky shit—then he would be coming onto Shido even harder! He would be in his lap every second of the day, telling him how much he loved it and wanted more! Insatiable! 

But Akechi hasn’t said a word. He hasn’t done any of his usual flirting or pandering. He hasn’t looked him square in the eye ever since that car ride.

So that must mean…

Shido curls his mouth around the question. He’s not listening to a word Akechi says. He hardly ever does anymore. The only thing he can think of when Akechi is in his presence is this, this pertinent, omnipotent question:

Did you like it at all? Akechi-k…Goro, was I good for you when we—

“That concludes my report.” 

Shido nods. Cold and resolute. “Understood. That’ll be all.” 

“Yes sir.” With that, Akechi bows himself out of the room. 

Shido blinks carefully in the empty space of his office. He doesn’t care, he tells himself. Of course he doesn’t. He doesn’t want to go near this with a ten foot pole. This is the pandora’s box he never wanted to open. You couldn’t pay him to think any more about this than he already has. Whatever’s done is done. That’s the past. It looks like Akechi is keeping his mouth shut about it, whatever it is, so Shido doesn’t have to worry—

That’s right. He doesn’t have to worry about a goddamn thing. In another few months he’ll be the prime minister. And then he can kill Akechi like he always planned. As long as Akechi doesn’t go running with some cockamamie story before then…(bastard sons, wild nights with prostitutes in his past, those kinds of stories go away over time. But rape…?). 

He won’t. Akechi won’t say anything. He’s too concerned with his own image, isn’t he? The perfect prince. Besides, how would he prove any of it? 'I got raped in a magical world created by the prime minister’s distorted mind?’ Come on, now. Even though, he’s sure that Akechi had bruises to go with that night…if Shido’s dreams are to be taken at face value…

So what. That vain brat won’t say anything. He won’t.

Shido grabs a glass and pours himself some scotch. He’s fine. He’s going to get through this. One careful calculation after the next. Like dominoes falling into place. He’s going to get through this.

But it pisses him off. It _really_ does. 

Akechi probably won’t ever look at him again.

_____________________________

Goro locks the stall door behind him in the bathroom. He spends quite a lot of time in this bathroom these days. This stall is familiar. 

He bangs his head into the door as it closes. Once, twice. 

He did well. He knows he did. He didn’t even look at Shido! He made it through another day! Another report half-heartedly given! And Shido didn’t even say anything! 

He’s doing so well keeping himself together. He’s a professional! He could lie his way out of anything and this is just another thing.

With one hand, Goro clutches the lingering bite mark around his nipple. He’s been picking at the scabs. Refusing to let it heal. He doesn’t want it to heal. He likes the pain, it’s helpful to him in its way and also…

His body doesn’t want to forget… _can’t_ forget…

Goro rubs his nipple over his shirt. The pain and pleasure mix perfectly and his nipple hardens against the fabric. It feels _so_ good. Goro bites his lip and reaches between his legs. He’s on fire. Rocking into his hand as his body begins to sing with happiness and need. He needs to touch himself right now. He always does after…

It’s the smell. Shido’s cologne. It’s minty and woody, Goro can’t really place the scent, but it’s unique to Shido. He’s never smelled it anywhere else. That smell does Goro in every time. As soon as he catches a whiff of Shido’s cologne, his body is gone. Off to a place Goro can’t get back from. A place where Shido holds him and _fucks_ him. Without mercy or reprieve. Where Shido thrusts into him with ease, because Goro is already so open. Filling a space inside Goro that was left hollow. 

“Hold me…hold me…” Goro allows himself small whimpers. Against the cold metal of the bathroom stall. “I’m your boy…I’m yours, so…” 

Goro has decided to put the plan on hold for now. Just for now. Until he gets a handle on this raging need inside. He can’t do anything to Shido until his dick stops getting hard every time he comes within a two meter radius of the man. Forget about seducing him! He can’t even look at him! 

Unzipping his pants, Goro’s eyes flutter shut as he slides a hand inside. Touching his bare cock, which has been aching for attention. So has the greedy hole behind his tight balls…

But Goro can’t rub the bite mark, stroke himself, _and_ finger himself all at the same time. He doesn’t have enough hands! 

Grunting in despair, Goro bangs his head against the stall again. He hates this. He hates this so fucking much. He hates Shido with every fiber of his being. But he can’t stop. He’s trying to stop. But it’s so difficult…

_There’s my boy._

_You’ve always been mine._

Goro knows it’s true. Deep down, he knows. The only man that could ever do this to him—that could unravel the unflappable Akechi Goro with nothing but a cock and some nice words—is his father. That’s just the way that it is. 

He has to learn to live with that. 

Otherwise…

He strokes himself harder. “I’m your boy…hold me, love me, love me, I need you, fuck me, _fuck me_ —”

When he cums, he doesn’t make a mess. Not too big of a mess. At least, he cleans it up. That’s all he can do right now. 

It’s good enough. He’s fine. By his own logic, everything’s going according to plan.

Or, mostly. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Irony of the day: Goro wins. He just doesn't know it ;) 
> 
> Thank you to everyone for reading/leaving kudos/commenting/bookmarking. I'm choosing to stay anon, but I see all of you and appreciate all of you so much <3 
> 
> I too want there to be more shiake content in the world. Let us whisper of a dream...

**Author's Note:**

> For my shiake loving friend (and for myself who loves this ship) <3


End file.
